


Oh So Intricate

by orphan_account



Series: Oh So Intricate [1]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: AU, Animal Traits, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, No band, i can't say much without spoiling but, i promise it's not super weird, very mild angst, yup i wrote another weird au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-01 20:36:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6535390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em> Coming home with his college roommate was a lot like Pete expected. A suburban home, much like his own, with that kind of perpetual smell of something cooking, even when it wasn't. Homely. Also, Pete realises, there is a half-naked boy in the living room.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh So Intricate

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT: this work is set in a verse where animals called nekos (resembling humans with cat ears & tail, who behave like a cat in every way) are kept as pets. However, none of these animals are actually featured prominently in the story, but they are important to the plot. They might so be referred to as 'cats'. The story features brief mentions of people having relationships with these animals, but it is severely frowned upon and not graphically described or a large part of the story. You never even meet one, aside from mentions, and like I said, I promise it's nothing too weird!
> 
>  
> 
> ____
> 
>  
> 
> I will be structuring this verse as i have with Lullabye, with one long origin fic and then taking requests for shorter ones both on here and on my tumblr (saverockandsoulpvnk.tumblr.com). Any questions please comment or contact me via tumblr- enjoy! Love you always!

  
Coming home with his college roommate was a lot like Pete expected. A suburban home, much like his own, with that kind of perpetual smell of something cooking, even when it wasn't. Homely. Also, Pete has only just realised, there is a half-naked boy in the living room. 

Kevin, Pete's roommate, doesn't even bat an eyelid at the boy, wearing a baggy shirt so faded the logo isn't visible from Pete's distance, and poking out under it, plain blue boxers with a hole in the leg. And a hat.

" _Kev_!" yelps the boy, "I didn't know you were bringing... company." Pete feels uncomfortable as the boy's eyes rake over him; it's surprisingly intense coming from a suburban teenage boy in his underwear, who is visibly quivering.

"Pete, go upstairs, I'll meet you in a sec," Kevin says, and Pete leaves late enough to hear him hiss, "Don't even _think_ about it, kid." And wow, a _lot_ more of Kevin's jokes make sense now that Pete knows he has a gay kid brother.

"What was that?" Pete asks, when Kevin re-appears and immediately sighs.  
"My little brother. He's... you don't want to get involved with that. We love him, 'cause he's family, but there's, there's a lot of _stuff_ there. It's complicated." Pete leans forward, so Kevin adds, "It's just stuff... my dad, it's-" and Pete knows what to leave alone.

They 'study' (play video games) in silence until there's a knock at the door.  
"Hey, Rick," Kevin bristles, getting up to answer the door, and Pete wonders what exactly is the deal with the barely visible figure behind the door, "What's up?"  
"Um," says the kid, 'Rick', and Pete feels guilty for not actually asking the boy's name, "Mom's gone out, but she left dinner. You have to make it because there's peas to boil or something and," his hand goes to scratch at his neck, and Pete thinks he mouths _water_ , which doesn't make much sense.

He leans around the door so Pete can see him properly for the first time, aside from when his brain didn't have room for much other information than _there is a Half Naked Boy_. Pete hates himself for noting how pretty the guy is, in a nerdy kind of way. His hair is still sticking up from under his hat, a different one now, and he's wearing an Elvis Costello shirt and loose jeans.

Not Vogue material, but pretty cute. Especially when he grins and says, "Pete, right? I'm Patrick." Unsure, he sticks his hand halfway out and then pulls it back and inclines his head instead. It's cute.  
Patrick makes an odd motion with his head, raising his nose into the air for a moment and tilting his neck towards Pete, before he makes a small noise and snaps his head upright, receiving a look from Kevin.

"This is my baby brother Patrick, he finishes high school this year," he explains dutifully, then gently guides Patrick out of the doorway and towards the stairs. "Sorry about this, I gotta make the kid some dinner 'cause he's nearly eighteen and can't fucking cook for himself." It's joking, and punctuated with an eye roll, but Patrick flinches anyway.

" _Kev_!" Patrick complains, and looks genuinely upset, enough that Kevin's expression softens and he apologises.  
"Look, go wait downstairs and I'll come make food for you in a sec," he groans back, turning back to Pete as he leaves and shrugging. He looks about to say something self-deprecating about his family when Pete asks carefully, "What's so bad about him, exactly? He seems like a sweet kid, in my opinion."

All he gets is a knowing look from Kevin as they head downstairs. Patrick is there, back on the couch watching cartoons, but he springs to his feet when they arrive and hovers nervously around Kevin. When they head to the kitchen he trots on Pete's heels like a show dog, which makes Pete laugh - he raises an eyebrow when Patrick nearly steps on his heel. When Kevin starts gatherings pans, Patrick continues to guiltily follow his brother everywhere with his head tilted down.

" _Stop_ , Rick," Kevin sighs eventually, "it's fine, sit down. It's just boiling some peas for you, I really don't mind." At this Patrick makes a wordless, upset mewling noise. When Kevin looks up and repeats, "Sit down, for fuck's sake," he slopes off to sit at the kitchen island with a dejected sigh.

"Drama queen," Kevin mutters, and Pete laughs, while Patrick looks up at the sound like he didn't realise Pete was there, and offers a small smile. Pete starts to return it when he's startled by the sound of running water. Patrick's older brother is running water for the peas to boil in, and not really looking at what he's doing, so it's spraying droplets everywhere.

Patrick's eyes are enormous and nearly all pupil, fixed on the faucet, and the hair on his arms and the back of his neck is sticking up. Even the hair trapped under the hat looks like it might be trying to stand on end too.  
"Hey, kid, you all right there? It's just water," Pete tries, and gets mostly ignored.

At that moment, Kevin turns, still not paying attention, and the overfull pan throws out a big chunk of water that lands with a splat on the kitchen island in front of Patrick, and the splashback from that turns into hundreds of little drops, most of which hit Patrick.

He's barely wet, just a little damp, but he pushes his chair out and stands up, making a strangled noise in the back of his throat - a low, growling hiss - and dashes away as fast as his legs can carry him. They sit in a silence that is amused on Kevin's end and alarmed on Pete's as they listen to the sound of feet thundering on the stairs and a slamming door, and then Kevin bursts out laughing.

"The Kid is hydrophobic," Kevin explains through laughter. Pete has noticed Patrick usually referred to by both Kevin and Patrick's sister, who he's met at a few college parties, as _The Kid._

Pete nods understandingly. "And that's the weirdness you warned me about, or just part of it?"  
"Just one little piece of the fucking cocktail, dude. I better go find him."  
Pete wants to ask how hydrophobic people drink, but Kevin is gone upstairs after his brother.

 

***

 

Pete potters idly around the kitchen, wiping up the spill and watching the peas boil and checking on the pie Kevin put in the oven. When he's waited as long as he can, and leaving the food any longer will make it burn, he takes the pie out and sets it on the side, before he heads upstairs. It turns out that he doesn't need to, because Patrick is on the couch with a blanket over his head while Kevin pats his shoulder and murmurs comfortingly to him. His nose is wrinkled up and he's muttering angrily, but he doesn't look too worse for wear, and even manages a smile when he sees Pete emerge.

"Dinner's ready!" Pete announces, and Patrick pulls the blanket off his head to wrap around his shoulders, adjusts his hat, and follows Kevin to the kitchen.

 

 

"So how do you, like, drink?" Pete asks through a mouthful of pie, once they're settled around the table with their food. They would stay in the living room, Kevin explains, but they just got new carpets and if the pie stained them, they'd all be dead meat.

Patrick blinks and looks puzzled, automatically ducking his head submissively towards Kevin and waiting for his answer, like he doesn't speak for himself often, or something. _Typical suburban families babying their youngest,_ Pete thinks. He remembers the same when Andrew was born.  
"With a sippy cup," Kevin says in a high pitched voice, miming holding a two handled child's cup and drinking from it, but it comes out rather crude.

"Kev!" Patrick squeaks - a recurring lament of his - embarrassed, and hits him hard on the arm. "Also, can you get me a drink?" He holds a cup towards Kevin - it looks like a more sturdy, plastic version of those cups you get from fast food places, with a straw. Kevin rolls his eyes and takes it to the sink to fill up, while Patrick pushes his chair back to be fully out of the way of any and all splashes. He pulls back in when the cup is plonked unceremoniously in front of him, and starts to sip delicately at the straw.

"A straw," Pete observes. "Clever."  
"Yeah, I don't mind like, the existence of water, just if it touches me or there's a lot," Patrick elaborates.  
"Like a cat!" Pete grins.  
Patrick and Kevin share a look, and Patrick sips innocently at his drink.

"So you're Kev's roommate? Are you the one with the band?"  
Kevin snorts at the mention of Pete's band, which he thinks is shitty, which Pete thinks _he_ only thinks because he's one of the whitest people Pete's ever met (aside from Patrick).  
"Band _s_. But yeah. Although, literally half the people at DePaul have bands of _some_ kind..."

"That's cool. I play drums." Patrick seems hesitant all of a sudden, offering Pete a shy smile. "So you're the one with the-" he flips a hand vaguely and tries to look casual, but Pete sees a guarded interest spark in his eyes, "Like, the charity thing, for the-"

"Oh, yeah. We do a few, but my band's big cause is this one charity, like we're playing a fundraiser for it soon, it's for, like, homeless nekos."  
Patrick's eyes are definitely glinting as he prompts, "Really?"  
"Yeah, uh, they're actually really intelligent, and people are just _mindlessly_ cruel to them. I really love animals in general but like- maybe it's just because they look so human, but I really, like. I'm just kind of passionate about it, um."

"That's really cool," Patrick nods eagerly, suddenly looking a lot more open. "I can't get into half the shows on the scene, but I'm really into it and like. It's awesome that you do that - that people use it for good causes like that."

"If you think _I'm_ white, wait until you see Patrick's record collection," Kevin interjects, smirking.  
" _Dick_ ," Patrick grunts in reply.  
"My dad liked a lot of jazz fusion type crap... he gave Rick all his records when he... left."  
Patrick flinches at the mention of their father. "Don't _talk_ about him," he grits out, rising to his feet and stomping away.

Pete doesn't see him again all day, and he and Kevin study in awkward silence the whole time. He's itching to ask what the hell happened, but the set of his roommate's shoulders warn against it. He knows their parents split when Kevin was quite young, and it wasn't amicable, but that's really it. Probably on purpose, Kevin manages usually to avoid even talking about his father, like he's a taboo subject.

"Rick! We're going out," Kevin yells at ten, when he and Pete head out for the party someone Pete knows from high school is throwing in Wilmette. "If we're lucky, we won't be back before tomorrow," he leers. There's no reply.

  
***

  
Encounters with Patrick get progressively weirder. In order to avoid ever having to be alone, especially at night in the dorm Kevin vacates every weekend to stay at home, because Pete's that pathetic, he ends up coming home with Kevin increasingly often, sleeping over or staying out all night at parties.

The second time Pete comes back to Kevin's, he nearly trips over Patrick. He's curled up on the rug in the entryway, chest rising and falling like he's probably asleep. The shape of his body makes almost a perfect circle, which Pete isn't sure is humanly possible, and he looks completely adorable as his eyes roam frantically behind his lids and his foot twitches aggressively.

Kev nudges a shoe into his side; it's gentle, and he wakes up slowly, glancing blearily around as his unfocused eyes settle on Pete and he startles to his feet. "Um. Sorry, I was like- I was napping, I- highschool." Behind Pete, Patrick's brother is laughing like a maniac, but Patrick looks stricken as he fiddles with his glasses. Half of his face is red from rugburn, and his hat is skewed at a jaunty angle.

"Cute," Pete laughs, patting Patrick's head through his cap. He stiffens and then follows them into the kitchen, arguing with Kevin about who'll make whose coffee. Patrick actually bares his teeth at Kevin before a kick to the shin settles it and and he sets about the task with a frown.

There's a weird tension between Kevin and his brother as Patrick stands with his hip pressed against Pete's in an oddly familiar way while he fiddles with the coffee pot. "Sorry things were weird, um, last time," he says quietly. "My dad, it's..."  
Pete doesn't know if he knows him well enough, but he pats Patrick on the shoulder lightly. "It's okay. You don't have to talk about it. You _do_ have to talk about your white trash music taste because Kevin's been telling me all week and I want to see if it's really _that_ bad."

Patrick looks like he can't decide whether he wants to drop kick Kevin or Pete, so it luckily ends up being neither. "Speaking of really that bad, I looked up your band," Patrick counters, but it feels like a joke and it comes out almost fond. Pete's only been there twice, but hanging at Kevin's has started to feel uncomfortably normal.

They _actually_ study, without the inverted commas, for a while, until Patricia comes home and calls them down for tea. She doesn't seem phased at Pete's arrival or unconventional appearance, and is more surprised when Patrick enters and takes the seat next to Kevin, opposite Pete, and smiles at him.

It's unrestrained and joyful, sleepily so, and it makes Pete unable not to wonder if Patrick's been in his room, 'studying' the way teenage boys do when their friends aren't in the room. And then he wishes he didn't think about that, as Patrick kisses his mom on the cheek and asks her how her day went before settling into his seat.

Pete laughs awkwardly. "Haven't sat down at a table for dinner like this since I was living with my folks. I kind of missed it though."  
Patricia smiles. "I'm just trying to make the most of Ricky before he leaves for college and I have an empty nest," she admits, earning an embarrassed scowl from Patrick.

"I come home literally _every_ weekend," Kevin points out. "Rick'll probably take off and never come back as soon as he's old enough."

"How was your fundraiser, Pete?" Patrick asks deliberately, changing the subject. "Mom, Pete's band played a fundraiser for homeless nekos last week."  
Patricia immediately looks back at Pete. "Wow, Peter, that's very charitable of you," she remarks in an oddly fond-yet-curious tone, while Patrick sticks his tongue out at Kevin.

Pete spends most of his evening discussing the terrible mistreatment of animals even in modern America with Patrick and Kevin's mom, and her smile brightens for every word he says.  
"You don't have any pets?" Pete asks, confused. She seems wildly passionate about animals, and also has a remarkable amount of knowledge, yet the house is bare of signs of animal life. And this is the suburbs.

She smiles. It seems almost sad. "No... Both the boys are allergic to fur. And I know nekos don't trigger allergies for most people but Ricky..." she glances at him, and sees him watching, alert. "He doesn't get along with them it's- his dad, I. He doesn't like them, do you honey?"

Patrick tugs on his hat and shakes his head softly. His expression doesn't allow the conversation to continue.

***

Things only get weirder. At the same time, Pete only gets more invested, and not just because of Patricia's pumpkin squares.  
"You don't mind that Rick's always hanging around?" Kevin asks once. Pete finds that he doesn't.  
"I grew up a younger brother, it's fine. Anyway, I like him."

Kevin looks hesitant but glad. "Okay. That's good. He doesn't... you can't judge him for it, it's- weird- complicated. But he doesn't have a ton of friends. I worry about him, and I'm away- I think it's god for him, being forced to socialise with you sometimes. Uh, yeah," he admits, shoving his hands back into his pockets.

 

***

 

The next time they're home, Patrick's both dressed appropriately _and_ not on the floor, which Pete teases him for and he blushes at. They squish onto the couch together and watch old cartoons, because they're _adults_ now.

Pete half notices Patrick drift off, in the middle of him and Kevin, but doesn't really pay him any mind until he starts to snore. It's not very loud or very annoying, but he's sort of _vibrating_ and his whole body is going like a chainsaw, juddering away alongside Pete. It's oddly endearing, until Kevin notices and elbows Patrick sharply, multiple times, until he wakes up.

Patrick blinks at them with unfocused, uncomprehending eyes, still snoring slightly, and then leans to the side and lightly butts his forehead against Pete's cheek. People do weird things when half-asleep, and Pete laughs and pets his head over the ever present hat, which encourages Patrick to eagerly rub his face along Pete's cheek and neck. Kevin elbows him again, hard, and he blinks rapidly until his eyes clear.

With a confused whimper, he comes to and stares at Pete with horror, before leaping up and disappearing up the stairs, face bright red.  
Pete's worryingly used to Patrick dashing upstairs at a moment's notice by now, and just turns to Kevin to ask, "What's his deal now?"

Kevin just shrugs and looks like he's holding in laughter. "He might be embrassed because he snores like a freak. He flips out when he wakes up suddenly too, sometimes."  
"Skittish," Pete suggests, and Kevin nods and starts getting to his feet. Bravely, Pete says, "Don't- I'll go."

  
***

Patrick doesn't seem particularly upset; he blushes when the door creaks open and reveals Pete, not his brother, but doesn't seem too perturbed.  
"Hey," he mumbles, barely looking up from his gameboy. Pete comes to sit next to him, and when he feels the bed dip Patrick pauses his game and puts it to the side.

"So, if Kevin didn't already tell you, you probably guessed that I have a lot of shit wrong with me," he says bluntly.  
"He told me, your dad-"  
"You don't know about that, don't talk about it," Patrick interrupts stormily, then goes pink and apologises.

"...Blink-182, huh?" Pete notices after an awkward pause. Patrick's bedroom is plastered in posters: a lot of Bowie and Prince and MJ, a lot of indie rock looking things Pete thinks he's vaguely heard of. Blink-182, Green Day, and Saves The Day, he recognises.

Patrick brightens immediately. "Yeah! I met Mark Hoppus once, when I was like, ten or something."  
"Wait, really? That's _awesome_. So you like music, I guess?"  
Patrick's laugh is startlingly bright. "Just a little. I have a show on the school radio, um. It's super pretentious. And I do marching band and all that stuff - I'm a drummer - and I do this grindcore thing with some friends from school..."

"I bet your mom likes _that_ ," Pete grins, mouth turning up of its own accord.  
"Yeah, like I'd ever be allowed to practice here. But uh, you're- I. I wanted to, um... like, most of Kev's friends- or mine, they like, think I'm weird. Like, you do too, I guess but it's like. I don't want to over read this, but you're kind to me? But not out of pity. I- thanks? Just because, pe-people aren't, y'know? This is stupid, this is really stupid, I'm sorry, I'm so embarrassing," Patrick blurts suddenly.

Pete doesn't reply, but only because he's immobilised by his smile as he makes a high pitched noise like a five year old being given a puppy and scrubs a knuckle fiercely in Patrick's hair, which doesn't work well through the hat. "You're so cute!" He yells, "That's _so_ cute! I'm- you're my favourite person right now, I can't believe you said that; you don't need to _thank_ me for being your friend. I _like_ you."

There's another silence, because both of them are smiling too widely to speak, before Pete gets to his feet. "C'mon, you might still catch the end of The Simpsons."

Patrick follows him downstairs, fuzzy smile never falling from his face. Kevin gives them an odd look as Patrick settles next to Pete and tentatively curls into his side. He barely leaves Pete all weekend, clingy and needy like Pete's never seen. It's nice; he feels wanted:

When Patrick confidently plops himself more-or-less in Pete's lap without any introductions on Sunday morning, once he finally arrives downstairs. When he giggles and presses his cheek into Pete's shoulder at something Pete said and then looks up with genuine happiness in his eyes. When he winks at Kevin and whispers something embarrassing from either one of their childhoods in Pete's ear. Or the glances he catches from Kevin, the grateful ones every time Patrick smiles.

***

At some point, Pete obtained Patrick's number, and recently they've been talking constantly. It was stilted at first, but gradually devolved into the easy back-and-forth of old friends. Pete isn't sure how he feels about that. Not that he cares about popularity, but he doesn't want to be taking advantage.

He also really doesn't want Patrick to only be caring about him because having a college friend gets him edgy points. From what he can tell, Patrick's not exactly Prom King. He described himself as _dorky_ , sometime after Pete asked about his radio show.

Some part of Pete feels this irrational need to keep Patrick safe and pure and free of Pete's inner sewage stream the way he doesn't usually care about with his friends. But there's a certain time of night where Pete becomes unable to restrain himself any more, and at some point in the last month it had become habit to pour himself out on Patrick on the daily.

Patrick doesn't reciprocate much, or really talk about his own problems, on an emotional level and not just stuff with school. Pete gets the sense from Patrick's whole family that there is 'stuff' but it seems deeper than Patrick's ready to go yet, something more serious than Pete's typical overblown suburban boy problems.

He's unfailingly kind and patient with Pete, shining through even his texts, and never failing to manage Pete's tantrums and slumps. Through a barrage of pretentious indie rock, overuse of the word _haha_ and the :) emoji, he is becoming one of Pete's favourite people. Pete starts to realise that he spends the week actively impatient to get back and see Patrick. He'd buried it under the typical desperation for the weekend, but it was more like _weekend!!! (and seeing Patrick)._

***

They're watching TV again, and Patrick is so close to Pete he's practically on his lap. Pete has his fingers resting on the arm of the chair, wriggling impatiently. He can feel Patrick staring, but can't bring himself to stop.

It must be _really_ annoying, because he hears Patrick growl in the back of his throat, feels him fidgeting on his seat, and is about to stop, when Patrick's hand comes down on top of his.  
Pete stops, turning to look at him. Patrick's blushing and ducking his head.  
"Dude," Pete protests, "I know it was annoying but you didn't need to _grab_ me!"

Patrick's hat is bulging weirdly from the position he's been laying in, and he smiles shyly, redfaced. "Sorry! It was just annoying. Watch your movie."

 

Pete notices that Patrick's like that, and his attention span is ridiculous. They'll be in the middle of a conversation when Patrick's eyes will suddenly flicker to the window, and when Pete tries to get his attention he won't even look, just make a small noise to indicate that he's listening.

 

 

***

 

 

Pete doesn't know when he starts being Patrick's friend outside of being Kevin's. The first time it's noticeable is when the two brothers get into a fight. Patrick's just yelling about how ugly the shape of Kevin's head is while Pete stands confusedly on the sidelines, when Kevin picks up a glass of water from the side and flings its contents at Patrick.

He avoids about half of it, but the rest of the drops get onto his face and cling to his hair. The look on his face makes Pete desperate to hug him and protect him as he drips water and looks utterly miserable. He's strangely proud when Patrick stands his ground, not disappearing upstairs. Pete advances on Kevin.

"Dude, what the _fuck_? That was seriously shitty of you, man," he yells, slinging an arm around Patrick's shoulders. He gratefully leans into the touch, and Pete feels him vibrating and thinks he might be shivering, which makes him even more furious.

When Patrick opens his mouth to join in, a sad little mewl comes out instead and he closes his mouth with bulging eyes.  
"It's okay, 'Trick, you just had a shock," Pete coos, glaring at Kevin, who seems startled himself at the current events. Amusingly, he seems to be deciding whether to be mad at Pete for taking the other side, or glad that someone's on Patrick's side, and ends up stomping away to the living room.

"Hey, shh, here," Pete coaxes, sitting Patrick down and fetching a towel as another pathetic whimpery mew comes out of his mouth in lieu of words. Patrick watches with wide eyes as Pete dabs gently at the water making a trail down his face. He visibly relaxes as he gets drier, and Pete finishes up.

"That's as best I can do, I guess," he grins, patting Patrick's head through his knit cap. Patrick recoils and holds his hands protectively in from of himself for a few seconds before he drops them and goes red.  
"Shit, sorry! I didn't mean- it's a-"  
"Hey, no worries, dude," Pete laughs, holding up his hands defensively, "I got it. I won't touch your head again."

Patrick beams, pupils a little dilated. "Thanks."

  
***

"You know Patrick's in love with you?"  
Pete's head pops up from his poetry anthology. " _What_?"  
Kevin's driving, because Pete's car is kind of at the garage, because he kind of crashed it.  
"I wouldn't normally grass on the Kid like this, but you get all gooey around him, and I don't want him to misread signals and get himself hurt. Just with the, um. Situation. I thought you should know."

It's almost three months since he started basically living at Kevin's house, and Pete wasn't previously aware that there _was_  a situation, and isn't entirely sure he's correctly processing what he's hearing.  
"Oh."  
Kevin's foot goes down a little too hard on the gas and they lurch forward a little.

"Don't be a dick to him," he grunts through gritted teeth, "He doesn't have a lot of worldly experience and he's really trusting and you took your shirt off in front of him and were nice to him. Please don't be an asshole about it, it's just a little crush, probably."

Holding his hands up in surrender, Pete yelps, "I wasn't going to! I was just surprised, is all. He's my friend, I'm not going to be shitty to him." _Also, I'm not very good at facing up to or even being aware of my feelings, but there's a chance I'm in love back._

The rest of the drive back Pete is filled with questions, but feels like he should be quiet. He hums and thinks about Patrick's face a lot as though this will magically bring him to a decision. It doesn't, and Kevin parks with Pete's head still far away. They head inside, and Patrick greets them from the doorway, like he's been waiting. Maybe he heard the car and got up to meet them.  
"Don't," Kevin warns again, heading up to greet his brother. Feeling greatly wronged, Pete follows him.

  
Patrick's hair is sticking up and his hat's at an odd angle, and when Kevin releases Patrick from their hug, Pete yanks him in for another. All three of them are startled, but they're friends, and he's really honestly missed Patrick. Patrick is tiny, which Pete knew, but the physical sensation of it re-enforces this. Pete isn't huge himself, and Patrick only goes up to his ear.

He lets go before it can become weird, and follows Patrick into the living room.  
"What, so you just live here now?" Patrick asks Pete.  
"Well I don't... I like you guys, your mom makes nice food, it's somewhere to stay for free. I'm not staying on campus if I can help it."

It's quiet, and Pete desperately wants to say 'Are you really in love with me? _Why_?!' but he just fiddles with a cushion and listens to Patrick's humming.  
"Fuck!" Kevin yells from the kitchen. "There's no milk. I'm not drinking black coffee! I'm going to get some, see you guys in ten." And then he's gone out of the door and Pete and Patrick are alone.

"Kev says you've got a crush on me," Pete blurts, never really one for controlling his impulses.  
Patrick seems to solidify, going rigid and bright red. "I."  
" _Crap_ , sorry, that was really asshole-y of me. I'm so fucking _sorry_ I embarrassed you, it's-"

Patrick hasn't moved, staring unblinkingly as Pete rambles. His lips are slightly parted, and a beam of sunlight is cutting through the window to splice his face into light and dark halves, so Pete kisses him.

There's a startled grunt, and Pete lingers gently; he's not moving, just touching his lips to Patrick's. He's about to pull away when Patrick tilts his head to the side and hesitantly parts his lips, an arm coming around Pete's waist. Pete tries to slip a hand under Patrick's shirt and get a hand on the small of his back, but Patrick not-so-subtly bucks him off and guides his hand to perch on his waist instead.

They don't even get far, past parting of lips and some spirited moaning on Pete's end and little choked whimpers on Patrick's, when Kevin returns. He stands above the writhing bodies on his couch with his arms folded.  
" _Why_?" he whines to nobody in particular as his roommate and his brother pull apart to look at him with twin guilty stares.

"On my _couch_? Fucking _gross_ ," he laments, tugging on his hair.  
"We didn't _do_ anything," Patrick argues, pulling his cap down. "We made out for like _one_ minute while you were gone."  
Ignoring him, Kevin sits down on the chair far away from them and groans wordlessly. "This is new, right? You guys haven't been secretly going at it the whole time?"

Pete feels significantly akin to a teenager caught by an overprotective father. He glances at Patrick, whose lips look slightly swollen, and has to hold in another moan. He should be kissing Patrick right now, or at least 'talking about their relationship' so he can kiss Patrick again in the future.

"I cannot _believe_ you two fuckers. I'm trying to watch the game, no _way_ do I need you going at it in here. Go to Patrick's room and don't do anything that'll get me murdered by mom. Wait, no, Pete, I should, like, talk to you first. Rick, fuck off upstairs."

Patrick trails upstairs with a lingering glance at Pete before Kevin rolls his eyes and shoos him away. Then, he turns to Pete.  
"So is this like... are you guys _dating_ , or what?" He looks like he'd rather be anywhere but here, but the paternal instinct he has, since their dad isn't around, keeps him there.

Pete shrugs awkwardly. "That, just now... That was the first time. So, you know, I'm not really sure yet."  
"Okay, I- Look, Pete, I know you're a good dude, really, and I trust you. And I want Rick to be happy, and he adores you. But I'm not letting him get involved in some fucked-up friends with benefits thing and getting hurt. He's... _affectionate_ , and trusting, and he'll let you do that, and it'll kill him. So you guys either break it off, or you can, uh, date my brother."

"Yes, Mr Stumph," Pete salutes, and his friend makes a gagging noise.  
"Yeah, _god_ , I hated saying that. But Rick doesn't have anyone else to say it for him. Not kidding, if he gets hurt once, I'll kill you. Fuck off, and let me watch my game."

Pete has seen Kevin in plenty of fights, and recognises the sincerity in Kevin's voice. He cowers and disappears upstairs.

***

Patrick's lost the easy confidence of earlier, when Pete slips into his room. He's tugging at the hem of his shirt and making a face at himself.  
"What, I kiss _that_ bad?" Pete laughs at him.  
He grimaces. " _No_! No. But it's just. I dunno, like, you don't want to-"

" _Hey_ , okay, no. Sit down, Stumph." Pete pushes him onto the bed, and sits beside him. Swallowing the screaming in his ribcage, he places a gentle hand on Patrick jaw, searching his gaze. Bright pink, Patrick nods hurriedly, and Pete ducks forward, their noses brushing as he places a light kiss on Patrick's lips. He doesn't let it last, pulling away.

"I like you a lot," he confesses, eyes glued to Patrick, whose face splits into a grin.  
"I like you a lot too," he mumbles, staring at the ground and smiling.  
"I would like," Pete prompts, "If I could kiss you a lot more, and make you smile like that more often too, if possible?"

Patrick plays with the comforter, and looks up. "You want to... date me?" It hurts that he sounds so surprised. Pete takes his hand. "Yeah. I don't want to be cheesy but, will you?  
Patrick nods, eyes wide and open. Pete stands up and heaves Patrick off the mattress.

"I don't want to be murdered by your brother; we should go and catch the game so he knows I'm not up here corrupting your innocence."

They emerge with Patrick's hand tentatively in Pete's, and settle quietly next to Kevin. Patrick, having no interest in sports, shuts his eyes and curls into Pete's side, a hand going across his middle and legs in his lap. Kevin watches with a raised eyebrow, and Pete nods seriously in reply to the look he gets.

No one actually watches the game. Patrick shuts his eyes and sometimes tilts his head to smile up at Pete. Pete stares at Patrick shamelessly, and Kevin watches them both warily.

 

 

Pete kisses Patrick goodnight at the top of the stairs, and he goes pink but stays for a moment with his forehead pressed against Pete's before he disappears to his room. Kevin drags Pete to his annoyingly familiar air bed, muttering, "Dude, gross. Stop kissing my brother in front of me, I don't wanna see, I don't wanna know." And then explains just how dead Pete will be if Kevin catches him sneaking out in the night.

"My mom gets back tomorrow, just so you know. I'm not gonna spill on you guys, but you might want to discuss it with him."

  
***

Patrick's already up, although awake would be a stretch, when Pete comes downstairs the next morning. He's watching Transformers, but he ignores it and sits up when he hears Pete, and blinks sleepily at him. Pete presses a kiss to his forehead and he whines when Pete pulls away, clutching the neck of his hoodie and pulling him back for a kiss.

Like Patrick, it's soft and gentle, but something else is waiting in it for when they're ready. Pete grins.  
"Coffee?"  
Patrick shakes his head. "Milky tea would be nice." He clasps his hands together and looks pleading until Pete gives in.

When he returns, Patrick eyes the tea distrustfully and sends Pete back for a lid and a straw. On the second time around, he accepts it with a laugh and pulls Pete down next to him, sipping delicately at his tea.  
"So, your mom gets back today, Kev says."

"Oh, um, yeah. Why- oh."  
Pete laughs and goes to pet his head before remembering and settling for flicking Patrick in the cheek. He's intensely proud that he's so far managed not to be an asshole and make some comment about the hat, even though he's dying to ask.  
"Yeah. D'you want to tell her?"  
Patrick shakes his head decisively.

"Not that I don't want people to know, or anything!" he says quickly. "Just, she'll make a big deal out of it and it'll be really awkward, and I don't want that. At least not yet."  
Pete nods, staring seriously into his eyes over the rim of his mug. Patrick nearly pokes himself in the eye with his straw, and scowls when Pete laughs at him.

They jump apart when the front door clicks, and Patricia comes in, dragging a small suitcase.  
"Hi, mom," Patrick pipes up from the couch. She leaves her suitcase and rushes towards him.  
"Hey, baby, I'm home," she coos, burying Patrick's face in her embrace. "I'm so sorry for leaving you all week, honey."

"Mom, it's fine," Patrick grunts, "get off, you're embarrassing me."  
Pete snorts at him. "Hi, Patricia." He isn't sure what her last name even is, because he's never heard it, and if the way she acts when Patrick's dad is mentioned is anything to go by, she doesn't use Stumph.

"Hi, Pete, honey. I was away with work all week, I hope you and the boys managed to feed yourselves yesterday. Is Kevin around?"  
Hoping she doesn't think it's weird that he and Patrick were hanging out without him, Pete shrugs. "Still asleep, I think. I was going to go and bring him a coffee."

She smiles. "Okay, baby. Ricky and I can catch up down here." She pinches Patrick's cheeks and he looks so absolutely mortified Pete has to struggle not to grab him and kiss him right there.

  
***

"Answer your phone," Pete groans, almost missing the left turning. Kevin is humming along to the stereo, apparently not hearing it, and the incessant beeping is driving Pete insane.  
"Ugh, it's The Kid," Pete hears, and breathes a sigh of relief as the beeping stops. "Yeah, hi, Rick."

"Hey, is that my boyfriend?" Pete says loudly, and he can tell from the faint laugher on the other side that it is.  
"Aw, I wanna talk to him, put him on speakerphone," Pete begs, until Kevin does and Pete says giddily, " _Hi_ , cutie," and he's only being about fifty percent sarcastic.

"Hey," Patrick says awkwardly, and Pete can feel him blushing through the phone.  
"I hate you, Pete," interrupts Kevin. "So anyway, why were you calling?"  
"There's no milk," Patrick answers, "Can you get some on your way?"

"Sure, 'Trick," Pete says, but Kevin shakes his head at him.  
" _Why_ is there no milk, Patrick? Mom literally said she bought enough to last until Monday and I wasn't allowed to buy you any more. There should be loads."

" _Kev_!" Patrick whines.  
"Wait, who cares? Why are we rationing milk, can't you just buy more?" Pete argues, and hears Patrick make a smug noise of agreement.  
"Right, except Patrick's lactose intolerant. He's a huge milk whore who like, drains the entire Glenview area's milk reserves, and then he throws up all over the place, and it's gross."

It quickly dissolves into argument about whether calling Patrick a milk whore is an acceptable thing to do.  
Pete hopes one week into a relationship is an acceptable time to be in love.

  
***

When they pull up, Patrick is actually waiting outside the house for them to arrive, and he's only wearing a t-shirt, although it's October.

Pete thinks he'll remember for the rest of his life how Patrick jogs the ten metres between them and wraps his arms around Pete's neck, grinning into his collarbone, and when he pulls away his eyes are shining. It's something Pete feels blessed to witness, his eyes dancing that way, but also slightly terrified that he's responsible for it.

"Hey," Patrick breathes.  
"Hey, 'Trick," Pete replies, ignoring Kevin's eyes on him, "Miss me?"  
Patrick nods deviously and grins, and Pete remembers him being a lot less shameless than this.  
"What's up with you today?" he teases, knocking a fist into Patrick's shoulder.

"I'm coming down with something," he says cheerfully, "Enjoying today before hell breaks lose tomorrow. Also, I think the pathogens are affecting my brain."  
"Pathogens," Pete repeats meaninglessly, dragging Patrick inside.

If last weekend he sat close to Pete and hung around him a little, blushing and making excuses if he got caught and being fakely aloof an hours afterwards, he's ridiculously unsubtle today. When they settle down for their weekly cartoon binge, he crowds right into Pete's lap and actually smirks at him.

When they stand in the kitchen chatting while Kevin makes the dinner, he leans into Pete's side and vibrates happily. Pete's aunt used to have this weird tremor when she felt too much emotion, so he writes Patrick's constant vibration off as that. It's weirdly endearing, and he tilts his head to kiss Patrick's temple.

Pete's frantically wracking his brain for the term for his aunt's vibrating thing, when he feels something. There's a scratch like sandpaper on his neck, a big long drag like a little piece of sandpaper being dragged across his skin, and he starts. Patrick looks guilty, and Kevin cackles, watching the scene unfold. "He got you, bro."

"Dude, _ew_ ," Pete whines, brushing off his neck. "Also? Your tongue is like sandpaper, Rick, drink some fucking water." He watches as Patrick scrunches his nose up apologetically and goes pink. Kevin flicks him on the side of his head and hisses something reprimanding at him. Patrick makes a growling noise and frowns at his brother.

There's some kind of battle of wills, Kevin making a lot of pointed glances at Pete and and then raising his eyebrows at Patrick. Patrick in return bares his teeth and mouths things. Kevin huffs and turns away, and Patrick looks guilty and avoids Pete's eyes. Pete kisses his cheek while Kevin isn't looking, and Patrick relaxes a little.

***

Pete can't sleep. He's thinking about Patrick, but that isn't what's keeping him awake, aside from a little buzz of worry for his boyfriend, who'd excused himself early from dinner with his illness and gone to his room. The house feels suddenly malevolent and uncomfortable, and he even feels old paranoia creeping up like it hasn't been able to since he surrounded himself with the Stumph's warmth and protection.

Now, Pete can hear a mattress squeaking across the as Patrick moves, and retching noises, and can't help but assume that Patrick is throwing up into a bucket and groaning at his stomachache. Which turns into _holy shit Patrick's going to die!_ But it's mostly just general sleeplessness and a busy head, not even Patrick-centric concerns.

Kevin is asleep in his bed and Pete, on his half deflated air mattress, doesn't see sleep coming soon. Since Patrick is already awake, and sounds like he's in need of comfort too, Pete decides to sneak out. He's pretty sure when Kevin said he would kill him if he snuck out, it was only under the assumption that Pete was going to get nasty with his high schooler brother one week into their relationship.

Kevin's snoring like he won't wake up anytime soon anyway, so Pete pushes the door shut softly and scampers down the hallway.

  
***

  
"Rick?" Pete whispers desperately into Patrick's door. He can hear panting and hopes Patrick isn't feeling too terrible.  
"Pete?" he hears, hissed back. "What're you doing?"  
"Can't sleep," Pete replies, wondering if they can have this conversation in Patrick's room before Patricia wakes up and skins him.

"Me either, 'cause you're keeping me awake," Patrick grouches, and Pete points out that he wasn't sleeping anyway and Patrick unbolts the door and tugs Pete inside. He's wearing pyjama pants and a t shirt, but his drawer is open and Pete heard it rattling, so he knows Patrick just put them on to be decent. The thought of him sleeping in just his boxers is endearing and slightly distracting.

Pete wraps him in his arms and pouts when Patrick flinches back.  
"Sorry, I'm sick. I don't want to like, give it to you."  
Pete nods and steps back, and Patrick looks unreasonably sad.  
"Hey, are you okay, though?" he asks, fighting desperately not to touch.  
"Kind of. What if- what if it's a long term illness? And it reoccurs constantly and fucks up my whole life."

His fists are clenched. Pete blinks. "Wait, I'm confused. Like, you're concerned you've contracted a long term illness? Or you already have one and you're trying to tell me."  
Looking down and wiping his eyes quickly, Patrick clarifies, "I have one already, yeah."

Pete lurches forward and grabs Patrick's shoulders before he can stop himself. "Shit. _Shit_! Are you going to die? Rick, don't die! You can't leave me."  
Patrick looks tired, he also like he's blushing, although Pete can't tell thanks to his refusal to turn on the light. "I'm not dying. Sit, um, sit down with me?"

Pete sits on the bed, and Patrick does too, and Pete waits. Eventually he says, "Do you know why I don't like to talk about my dad?"  
Pete opens his mouth to guess, and then shuts it. He doesn't see how this is relevant, but as long as Patrick isn't dying, he can wait. Patrick takes a deep breath and stares at his hands. "It's because he used to fuck nekos."

Pete gasps. He's about to say something, although he doesn't know what, but Patrick continues on. His teeth are gritted and his hands curl into fists again - Pete hates seeing him so unhappy. "Yeah, and not just once, either. I don't know exactly, but enough to get one fucking _pregnant_."

His mouth is a little pink line and the combination on his face of bright, splotchy pink and stark red makes him look like he's been slapped. Pete feels similarly.  
"You... have a secret brother?" He knows then, if he thinks about it for even a moment, but he can't bear to until he's run out of other explanations.

"No," Patrick says slowly, raising his eyes. He burns with a quiet fury that doesn't seem to be directed at Pete, but he feels the heat and winces.  
"So you're." Pete says, stumbling awkwardly when Patrick meets his gaze.  
"What, you want me to say it?" he blazes. "Yeah. My real mom was a cat."

This is Pete's cue to say something like 'I'm here for you no matter what' or 'you're still Patrick to me' but instead he goes for, "But you're normal-seeming, right?" He's aiming for comforting, like; " _Hey, your entire existence is a product of an unholy and morally devoid union that makes most people feel sick at the thought of, but at least you sort of seem normal_ ," but it comes out sounding a lot more like, " _Please tell me you're normal enough seeming that I can ignore this and pretend you're not a huge freak_." Which isn't how Pete feels, but Patrick folds his hands neatly in his lap and sits up alarmingly straight.

"Right. I'm deathly afraid of water, both allergic and addicted to milk, my bottom drawer is stuffed with cat toys instead of porn, I'm prone to bouts of loud purring, and I wear hats all the time for a reason," he says calmly.  
Pete's trying to be supportive and patient but all he really hears is the last part, and he lunges forward to reach carefully for the hat.

"'Trick, please?" Pete has the sudden thought that he's taking this amazingly. Probably, he'll wake up tomorrow and realise _my boyfriend is half neko_ and freak out, but for now he just wants to see what's under the hat.  
"No," Patrick growls, stony-faced as his pupils narrow. "Because you'll see it, and you'll realise how weird it is, how weird I am, and you'll hate me. And I... I've never needed someone quite like I need you before."

Pete stills, and he can see the taut line of Patrick's back. There's a faint smell of sex in the air, like most teenagers' rooms, but somehow different. And that's when Pete really realises, stupidly,  because of Patrick's sex smell. Which doesn't smell the same as other people's, because he isn't the same as other people.

Pete flops gracelessly back onto the bed and stares at the ceiling. "Okay," he says decisively. "Okay, let's talk about it. So yeah, it's, it's weird. It's kind of just hitting me right now, like. Y'know. My boyfriend is half neko. But... The important word, there, is my boyfriend. Is Patrick. I'm trying to get it in my head, to disassociate the two. Because, because I don't want to think of you as Patrick who is half cat. Like, you are, and that's unavoidable and we're both going to have to accept that, but it's not what you are, mainly. I know you, and you're one of the most intelligent, insightful, kind, interesting, hilarious people I know, even if you have some weird mannerisms, or whatever."

Pete sighs contentedly. When it first hit him, it was like a horrible weight pressing in his chest, making him feel sick. Now, he's successfully talked away the demons, and through them he can see just how cute Patrick is, like right now, he's grinning bashfully and ducking his head, and Pete can't bring himself to care about his lineage.

"It's just," Patrick begins, and Pete's head jerks up when he starts to speak, "It's just, like, you know how when people have parents who are like, serial killers or something? But they always have a good parent, too, and it's like... there's a little bit of bad, but they sort of choose the good side, follow the good parent, let those, those genes, or whatever, be active. You know? But my... my dad was some shitty guy who had his way with innocent animals, and my other side is just... an animal. I don't know where I'm meant to turn to be something good."

Pete's mouth turns up, finger skimming Patrick's bottom lip. "How about," he says slowly, "You just be you? You don't have to be any of that - you're not. I'm sure some excellent people made your dad, maybe it's not even genes at all where the problem is. You know, your mom, she's great-"  
Patrick looks up and rolls his eyes. "If you dare to say something about my mom-"

  
Pete holds his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay. But, she's the one who raised you. And Kev. And- I mean, your sister terrifies me, but I'm sure she's awesome. But that's why you're better than your biological parents. Because you're not an animal, you're not just a random product of genetics. See? To me it's like, amazing that you're awesome despite it."

Patrick stares at Pete for a few seconds. His mouth hangs slightly open and there are stars in his eyes, so Pete kisses him chastely and startles him.  
"Sorry," he protests, swooping away, "You looked cute."  
Patrick's so soft and squishy and totally awesome that Pete wants to kiss him again, but he opens his mouth and Pete doesn't want to interrupt him.

"I hadn't thought of it that way. It's just... my whole existence, I feel like an abomination. Every time I look in the mirror, I get reminded that I'm not really a person, that I'm a freak. I spent my whole childhood just... wishing to be normal. I just wanted to go to school without a freaking hat on, once in my life."

His face screws up and he starts looking borderline distraught, so Pete edges closer and slings an arm around his shoulders. "I tried once. I was like seven, I think, and I just went skipping off outside. Some old lady found me, and I obviously didn't have a collar, so she told me to 'sit' while she went to look for my owner, called me 'boy'. And I was only a kid and I didn't understand, so I just started crying for mommy and she hated me talking, she hit me and told me to be quiet and know my fucking place and called me some pretty bad names. Mom found me and got me home, but I."

Pete squeezes tighter, and at the end of the speech Patrick turns his head and starts sobbing into Pete's shirt. "I didn't ever forget that. I tried, a while after that... I would walk around on all fours and ate cat food and didn't speak for a week. 'Cause I thought that was who I was meant to be. I thought I was being bad by trying to be a person. I think I fucking broke my mom's heart."

  
Pete holds him until he slows. He's so impatient, but he has to wait for the moment or he'll seem like a dick. When Patrick peels his face slowly away, Pete lays a gentle hand on the brim of his cap and pleads, "I want to see you, I want to see all of you." He also wants to say more, some cheesy and overly romantic speech, but he doesn't know how to condense everything properly so he says none of it.

Patrick looks at Pete with the same trusting eyes as the cat with the leg stuck in barbed he'd helped at the shelter last week, helping a friend who volunteers there. At the resemblance, Pete has to swallow and look away for a moment. Looking back, he says to himself _this is Patrick_. He'd promised he wasn't going to just ignore what Patrick was, because that would only ever lead to more hurt later.

He has to do exactly what he always tries to do with people. Realise that Patrick's half cat, but that's not all he is. His parentage is one bullet point in a list that includes the pure childlike glee contained in his smiles; the fact that he vibrates when he's happy; all the late nights he's stayed up consoling Pete, talking him down with one well placed sentence; his face when Kevin flicks water at him and he growls and dashes upstairs, coming back a few minutes later embarrassed and guilty.

Fingers still lingering on the bill of Patrick's hat, Pete blurts, "Did you ever know her?" and Patrick starts.  
"What? Who?"  
"Y'know, your, like, b-birth mom?"  
Patrick sits up. "Yeah I did. I didn't know that's what she was until after, though." When Pete's questioning gaze doesn't recede, Patrick sighs loudly and continues.

"I don't know some parts. When I was born, my dad and my mom were still married. He comes home with this baby, some story about some cat he rescued - he was a policeman - that had been, uh, used by some guy, or whatever. Saying about how he'd got the kid away before anyone could notice, but his existence shouldn't be be possible and he'd get used like an experiment and couldn't ever be discovered.

"And my mom is, my mom, so she like adopted it- me. Like, they didn't really have a choice and I was really my dad's kid anyway, but Kev says she totally doted on me from the day I arrived. He was always really jealous when we were kids because I needed extra attention all the time to make sure I was safe and not getting found out. We used to try and do spells to try and give the, um. Weird things about me, to him."

He pauses and snuffles briefly - Pete can't tell if he's holding back tears or just had a blocked nose in the dark, but he squeezes Patrick's shoulder.  
"So this, this- the neko- my biological mom, is living in this shelter. And I'm not sure, mom thought I should meet my... other mom, maybe, or that I stay in touch with the, uh, other part of me. I think she felt like she wasn't enough, especially when my dad started to work more and more. So she used to take me, sometimes multiple times a week, right up until - for a long time in my life, to see her."

He pauses to smile fondly, and Pete is captivated. "It was nice. We had a connection, I guess, I think she knew. She would always do that protective stuff and I- ugh, shit, I'm sorry... I can't talk about that," he pants suddenly, breathing harsh and he is definitely crying now. Pete squeezes him tightly and strokes his bangs down flat until he calms a little.

Still snuffling, he eventually continues, "Anyway- y'know. I don't want to talk about it, but it all came out and Mom made Dad leave and I never saw him or _her_ again except some phone calls from him. But I didn't want to, because I was- still am, I guess - so furious for what he made me. My whole life- I can't..."

Pete pulls Patrick gracelessly into his lap and hugs him hard enough to crush him.  
"Hey, it's okay. You've said enough for tonight. I'm really proud of you, and you're brave and kind and strong for doing that, okay?" He kisses Patrick's hat and rubs his back comfortingly while Patrick nods.

"Thanks. You're a cheesy fucker, but thanks," Patrick laughs, burrowing into Pete's chest enough to push the bill of his hat up a little.  
Pete grins. "I have a motive," he clasps his hands under his chin and pleads, "Come _oooooon_?"  
Patrick sighs and peels away, a serious expression dawning on his face.

"You're allowed to freak out," he says, with a hand on his hat, "You're allowed to run away back to your room, or whatever. I'm like, expecting that. You're not allowed to bail on me permanently, not after all that. You got my hopes up and also, even if you do that, I'll still care about you - but my brother won't feel the same. I don't want to see that happen to you."

Pete, who feels like a kid at Christmas, has to stop himself from jumping up and down and saying ' _yeah yeah yeah I won't whatever hurry up_ '. He levels liquid brown eyes at Patrick that say 'I won't' and then prompts him with an eyebrow.

"I- you do it," Patrick says, leaning his head into Pete's reach. Pete gapes. He never knew taking someone's hat off would feel so important to him, but he tentatively does so. He's pretty sure he already knows what to expect, from context clues, but it's still a shock when he feels a resistance and has to lift the cap higher than he would if he was taking it off the head of a- someone who isn't Patrick. Pete refuses to think of him as not human, even if that isn't all he is.

"You okay down there?" He says to Patrick, whose eyes are wrinkled shut. Patrick nods and looks up at Pete with one eye, keeping the other closed in a kind of wince.  
"Rick, chill," Pete sighs, squishing his nose up. "I'm not going to be a dick. Lemme just-" He finally removes the hat and places it carefully on the bed before looking back.

There are ears, like he imagined. He pictured them as kind of non-objects, just a part of Patrick that blended in with his hair and didn't really have any effect on Pete, or as a weird thing he was going to overcome because of his love for Patrick. They are _not_ like that. They are maybe some of the _cutest_ ears Pete has ever seen.

"Patrick, what the fuck?" he squeals, realising his mistake when Patrick tenses; Pete squeezes his thigh to reassure him and stop him from running. "'Trick, that- they- _you're_ so cute!" He hears his voice reach supersonic levels, and doesn't even care, because they're sandy-coloured but a little darker than Patrick's hair and lightly striped with white, and they're folded right back to his head with fear and it's so expressive and adorable they seem like they have their own mind.

When Pete says 'cute' they prick right up fast enough to blur and Patrick blushes. Pete realises he can't control their instinctive reactions any more than he can his blush, and can't wait to use this fact to embarrass Patrick.

They fold back again when Pete doesn't say anything other than to stare at Patrick borderline-creepily, but when he yanks Patrick into a hug with his chin over Patrick's head, he can feel them tickling his face. He realises he's muttering excitedly into his boyfriend's hair and - before he can chicken out - brings up a hand to scratch where one emerges from his hair.

They rise up in alarm at the unfamiliar touch, but when Patrick realises what Pete's doing he goes furiously red, while his ears droop contentedly. It's less than a minute before he starts purring - which was Pete's aim.  
He's rubbing his face against Pete's cheek before he sits back upright and squishes his nose up.

" _Peeete_ ," he complains, and his slightly sharper canines are suddenly obvious to Pete, and weirdly adorable as he mews angrily, "Asshole." His eyes are bright and annoyed but Pete just laughs and pets Patrick's head clumsily.  
"I didn't freak out at all," Pete points out, "I like, _deserve_ this."

Patrick looks like he wants to argue but instead his eyes space out and he rests his forehead on Pete's collarbone. Pete scratches his ears fondly until he goes completely soft and starts to snore quietly. With an adoring smile, Pete grips Patrick's back and gently lowers him back into the bed, kissing his cheek, the corner of his eye, the tip of his ear and then his lips.

"Night, baby," Pete whispers, watching Patrick's ears twitch as he dreams, and laughing. He shuts the door carefully and slopes back off to his room, and after that he sleeps much better.

  
***

When Pete wakes up, there's a small body curled up at the end of his bed, purring loudly. While he's sitting up, he accidentally knocks Patrick with his feet and causes him to lurch awake with a distressed squeak. Following the source of his disturbance, he sees Pete and folds his ears back to miaow with contempt.

"Good morning," Pete snickers, and Patrick frowns dozily at him, not quite awake, and curls back up in the tiny amount of space he's managed to crush himself into on the mattress. It isn't long before he resumes his contented purring and drifts back into sleep.

When Kevin wakes up, there's the expected shouting and trying to cover for his hatless brother, until Pete shuts him up and explains that he knows. The shouting wakes Patrick back up and he raises his head to shoot a furious glare at his brother for disturbing his sleep. Pete laughs and pets his hair until he drops his head back down again.

"You're not-" Kevin gapes at the ease Pete still displays around Patrick.  
"I'm not," Pete agrees proudly, one hand still tickling the base of Patrick's ear. Patrick grins drowsily and shifts closer to Pete's warmth.

**Author's Note:**

> don't shame me for this okay i had to write it!! Sorry for the abrupt ending but I didn't want to drag out the first fic tooo long... send prompts and requests here and @ saverockandsoulpvnk (i might take nsfw prompts for this verse) tumblr :) Thanks for reading!!


End file.
